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‘I’m going to write it on your hand,’ I joke as I roll over and sit up on my elbows.
‘Oh, I don’t know, Tom, Dick, Harry – stop being a smart-arse and play Michael Bublé – a Christmas album.’
‘Playing Michael Bublé, Christmas, Deluxe Holiday Edition,’ the Smarty announces.
‘Oh, there we go,’ Mum says victoriously. ‘Okay, out of bed, come downstairs, I’ve got a surprise for everyone.’
‘What time is it?’ Jess asks.
‘Quarter to eleven,’ Mum replies. ‘I let you sleep in.’
Jess has been almost exclusively getting up in the afternoon every day she has been here. This is not a lie-in for her, this is an early start.
‘Come on,’ Mum sings as she heads down the hallway. ‘You too, Declan, you’re not off the hook.’
‘Right, well, I suppose we’d better get up then,’ I tell Jess.
‘I suppose so,’ she replies. ‘You make the coffee, I’ll… drink it and try to be nice.’
‘That seems fair,’ I say sarcastically.
‘Can I request a Christmas present from you please?’ Jess asks as she rolls over to face me.
‘I’ve already got you a present,’ I reply. ‘A good one. You’ll love it.’
‘Well, this can be an extra present, for being so good,’ she insists.
‘Erm, I’m no expert on the naughty/nice list but I’m pretty sure Santa Claus would take a hard stance on you shagging the neighbour.’
I’m joking. Well, maybe half joking.
‘That’s actually what it’s about,’ Jess starts, suddenly serious. ‘Can you be nice to Kenny?’
‘Not usually,’ I reply.
‘I mean today, obviously,’ she adds. ‘He’s not the guy you think he is. Please? It’s my one Christmas wish.’
‘I’ll do my best,’ I tell her as I take my phone from the bedside table.
I’ve got a cute good morning/merry Christmas message from Rocco.
Good morning, gorgeous. Thanks for making a dull week such a memorable one, and for encouraging me to do Christmas right. Can’t wait to see you in a couple of days – merry Christmas. x
‘Okay, what is going on?’ Jess asks.
‘What?’ I reply innocently.
‘You’re doing the face,’ she replies. ‘The phone face. The one when… oh, my God, Billie, have you met a boy too?’
I blush as I grin like an idiot.
‘Maybe,’ I reply. ‘If you come downstairs now, and make Mum happy, then I’ll tell you after breakfast and presents, deal?’
‘Deal,’ she replies.
‘Can I use the bathroom first?’ I ask.
‘Yeah, I’m not getting dressed,’ she says through a yawn. ‘It’s tradition.’
